


Walkie Buddies

by phenomanon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Fake Science, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 16:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomanon/pseuds/phenomanon
Summary: High school AU inspired by badwolfrun's amazing tumblr. '90s nostalgia circa "Clarissa Explains It All" vibes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badwolfrun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/gifts).

(_GIF set made by the wonderful and amazingly talented [badwolfrun](https://panchostokes.tumblr.com/post/188300943917/for-brain-twin-anon)!_ 😍)

——— 

Greg's days were usually spent fulfilling the hierarchy of needs: Junk food binges, MTV music video marathons, and hours clocked trying to beat _Ocarina of Time_ on N64.

Daily highlights were when good-boy-next-door-Nick-Stokes would climb through his bedroom window.

Although they were nearly the same age, with Nick just a grade ahead, they were completely different types of people.

Greg was an introverted science geek obsessed with video games and _Popular Mechanics_, while Nick was an extroverted peoples' favorite, co-captain of the baseball team.

There's no way the two would have been friends if they weren't neighbors, even though their personalities were peculiarly compatible.

"Yo."

He barely glanced up from his intense game session to see Nick jumping over the window ledge.

"Hey."

"Playing that game again?"

"Zelda is a masterpiece, Nick." Greg corrected, not even taking his eyes off the screen for a second.

"Whatever, man. Practice sucked today. Coach made us stay an extra hour and run laps because Daniel pissed him off again."

"Rough. That deserves a soda." Greg nodded towards the back of his room, home to his lava lamp and highly coveted mini fridge.

Since he lived almost autonomously in his room (never exploring other parts of the rather large house), Greg's parents negotiated his own fridge and TV. As long as he kept bringing home A+'s and early acceptance letters, they would let him exist in his secret bunker for as long as he wanted.

"Okay, but only because coach wants us to bulk up this season. Are you eating meat yet?"

"Are you kidding? Do you not remember how they prepare cows for the slaughter? Looks like we need to watch the PETA exposé again."

"I'm good. Forget I asked." Nick joked, grabbing a lime green Surge from the cooler. "I uh...got nominated for homecoming court today."

"I know. I heard your name on the announcements." There was a tinge of something odd in Greg's voice, not quite jealousy nor commendation.

"Wasn't even gonna go this year, but I may have to. Have you asked anybody yet?"

"_Please_. Homecoming's so lame. Talk about a ho-hum slice of suburban drone life."

Nick shrugged, becoming almost shy about his previous announcement.

"I don't know, you only get the high school experience once right?"

"Thankfully. Unless you're Billy Mathers and it's your third senior year."

"Hey, he's just living in the moment...three times in a row."

This got an earnest chuckle from Greg, who finally peeled his attention from the TV towards Nick.

Clinking his root beer with Nick's soda bottle in celebration, Greg swiftly changed the subject.

"Remember how I told you I'm taking those college credit classes?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to graduate early, probably same time as you."

"Oh nice." 

"Yeah, I'm looking into some colleges right now...what about you?"

"Whatever university offers me a baseball scholarship I guess."

"This is serious, Nick. College is just a year away and we need to figure out where we're going."

"It'll happen when it happens, man."

Nick didn't like thinking about potentially getting split up from his best friend. No more scary movie marathons (even though Nick didn't even like horror films), no more late night walkie chats, no more pizza binges...no more Greg on the daily, a routine he had gotten methodically used to.

"But what if we—"

"Come on, I didn't come over so we could talk about colleges. Let's watch a movie instead, dealer's choice."

Greg couldn't argue with that.

"Child's Play 2?"

Nick wasn't a fan of creepy dolls, even though he wasn't particularly scared of them.

"Sounds good. Haven't I seen that one already?" 

But the thought of Greg relaxing against him as he feigned fright, jagged breathing and all, was Nick's drug of choice. 

"No, we watched the first one. The second one isn't as good, but I think it's funnier." 

"Ah." Nick was considering how much cuddle time might be cut when he felt Greg's hands on his shoulder. 

"Wanna...watch this on my bed?"

"Sure."

"Cool."

As they laid on the mattress watching the campy horror movie, Nick idly started tracing circles in Greg's hair. A nervous tick of his that Greg thoroughly enjoyed.

It almost felt intimate, as if Nick considered him more than just his weird geeky neighbor.

He couldn't remember exactly when they started doing this—_cuddling thing_—but Greg knew that he couldn't live without it now.

Nick's hand unknowingly crawled its way onto Greg's elbow, making the blonde freeze at the gesture. The older boy had never tried that move before, and Greg momentarily wondered if it was something Nick might do on his dates.

His finger was still casually lingering on the triangle of his elbow when they both heard a voice.

"What do you want to do for dinner Greg? I just made shepherd's pie or I could order you a pizza—"

The two boys immediately flipped up from the bed like vampires in a coffin.

"—Pizza's fine! Cheese please." Greg suddenly shouted, blushing even though his mother didn't enter his room.

"Okay honey, I'll make the order now."

Giving each other ample space, Nick and Greg quickly parted.


	2. Chapter 2

***Note: Got the idea for Greg's science project from an existing experiment: [Sonic Fire Extinguisher](https://www.techexplorist.com/sonic-fire-extinguisher-extinguish-fire-sound-waves/4692/). Let's all pretend the variables in the experiment are true, as I am no scientist lol. 🤷**

———

(_GIF set made by the wonderful and amazingly talented [badwolfrun](https://panchostokes.tumblr.com/post/188300943917/for-brain-twin-anon)!_ 😍)

———

"G for Nicky."

No response, just static.

"Are you there? Over."

Nick's body slowly stirred, tired eyes being rubbed into oblivion at the sonic disturbance.

"Nick?"

He twisted his body in a single motion, scooping up the black box from under his bed.

"G?"

"Come through? Over."

"10-4. Over."

———

Groggy and delirious, Nick almost fell backwards while climbing those familiar steps. The third rung of the ladder was always a tricky one, you'd have to pull your weight off as soon as your other foot clamped on, or else you'd go tumbling.

When he entered through the window, Greg's room was dark except for a few black lights illuminating the space.

"Hey!"

"What's going on, G? Everything okay?"

Greg swore to himself that this was about his latest engineering project, not because Nick might have been ignoring him for the past few days.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just wanted to show you something."

"At 11:00pm?"

"Just gave up on _Final Fantasy_ for the night."

Nick rolled his eyes. He had no idea what that meant, but assumed it was another video game title.

"Figures."

"Hey it's painful reconstructing memories...especially if you're an elite warrior who's seen everything."

Shrugging, Nick flopped onto the mattress he had grown accustomed to, nearly falling asleep listening to Greg's diatribe.

"Get on with it, G."

"Okay okay. So I finally figured out what I'm doing for my mechanical engineering project this year."

"You couldn't wait 'til tomorrow to tell me this?"

"I just thought of it and wanted to show you first! I mean...I can't show you r_ight here right now_...but if we take a little drive I can."

"Dude, it's almost midnight."

"So what? The night is young."

Nick couldn't get over the curious smile plastered on Greg's face. It was annoying yet enlightening.

"We can't drive around right now, there's curfew."

"Says the guy who goes to keggers."

"Hey, that was only a couple of times. And we've got that exam in AP chem tomorrow."

"Don't worry, I'll help you."

"I don't need your help on the exam, man. I need sleep."

"Come on, you won't regret it. Leggo?"

"Ugh, Greggo."

———

Nick was vehemently shaking his head by the time they arrived at the quarry. He had no idea how Greg had even discovered this place, as it was hidden and obstructed by vegetation. But he probably didn't really want to know.

There was loud jingling coming from Greg's mystery box of science stuff as he pulled it out from the back of Nick's truck.

As he started taking things out, Nick began to worry. There were wires everywhere, a large hunk of mysterious metal, and...a subwoofer?!

"Greg, what's going on?" The older boy questioned, levitating curiously over the scientist.

"You think Einstein had people hovering over his shoulders all the time? If he did, do you think that we'd be walking around with E=MC² t-shirts?"

Nick was tight-lipped and silent, although his lingering pose remained.

"Now I see why we had to come all the way out here for you to show me this."

"Gonna love it, trust me. And since you drove, you get to pick the song."

"What?'

"You heard me. Grab a CD from over there." Greg tilted his head towards the box.

Carefully walking over as to not disturb the engineering mastermind, Nick dug out a few plastic cases.

Unsurprisingly, a Marilyn Manson CD topped the stack. Nirvana, No Doubt, Rage Against the Machine, Tupac and lastly...George Strait?

"Why do you have this?" Nick questioned, tossing the other CDs as he held up a particular one to Greg's face.

"What, a guy can't like all kinds of music?"

"George Strait? Really?"

"Call me a DJ because I thought you'd appreciate a special shout out."

Nick smirked, "All right. I request _You Know Me Better Than That_."

"I figured that'd be your pick. _If I Know Me_ was my second guess, but luckily you didn't choose that one because it's not loud enough."

"Huh?"

"You'll see in a second. Patience, young grasshopper."

"All right, Einstein."

"Now it's not the exact frequency I need—but if I turn up the bass and lower the treble, we can get the effect we're looking for. Luckily those plucked strings are good for somethin' besides drinking and cheating on spouses."

"That's not what every country song is about."

"Yeah, just 99% of them."

Nick let out a playful sigh, adding, "As if your rock music is any different. It's all the same story, just slightly different lyrics."

"You have a point there, cowboy."

It wasn't often that Nick won an argument against Greg's brilliance, but when he did, he never let him forget it.

"I'm gonna bring this up next time you slam my country songs."

"Won't have to because we won't listen to any." He continued to fidget with his toys. "There. This is a prototype, but it's pretty much done. What do you think?"

"Not sure what I'm lookin' at, hauss."

"Stripped a CD player down to its mechanical components, connecting it and a Bunsen Burner to a mini generator I built. Then I hooked a 12 inch sub up to a variable tone generator, leaving off enclosure for better mobility. I may build some sort of casing around it though, for a more robust finish. Also ran a bunch of tests at home to find the right frequency and distance, which was somewhere between 30 and 60 Hz, at about three feet. Probably play the classics—Mozart or Bach—for the actual engineering convention though. You know how those judges like tradition."

"Wow."

"You impressed, Stokes?"

He nodded, circling the odd experiment from all angles. Nick was also a scientist, but not as versed in mechanics as Greg.

"How'd you figure all this out?"

"Well...I was lighting matches in my room—"

"Why were you—"

"Let's hold questions 'til the end, Nick." Greg teased, handing Nick a haphazardly constructed control panel. "Before you ask, this is the doomsday button. Press it."

Nick hesitated.

"Don't worry, we won't start a fire. That's what the iron skillet is for."

"But irons and metals_ can_ catch fire."

"Right, but we're dealing with low heat here. Plus I brought my fire extinguisher."

"At least you're prepared."

"Always have to be, as a scientist."

For a moment, there was a twinkle of respect in Nick's eye that left as quickly as it appeared.

"You're somethin', you know that?"

Greg smirked.

"Do the honors, Nick?"

An affectionate smile crept up on Nick's face as he slipped the CD into the drive, fingers shaking as he tipped the control panel. Greg took it as a sign to start the fire in the pan, giving Nick a thumbs up for lift off.

"Here goes nothin'." 

Nick pushed the button on the control panel, jumping back as George Strait began to play loudly. Greg gingerly grabbed Nick's hand, setting down the CD player and replacing it with the subwoofer.

"Point it closer to the fire."

"Okay."

Nick did as he was told, inching carefully towards the pan as he directed the sound closer. The translucent flame began to dance, blinking into existence a few times before dispersing.

"Now you can say George Strait puts out fires."

"That was fucking awesome." 

Greg's ears perked up at the praise, stopping Nick as he was about to turn off the generator.

"Why waste a good song?" 

From his jacket pocket, the blonde pulled out a scrappy brown bag, causing Nick to shake his head.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Paid some weird guy in front of the liquor store to buy it for me, Officer Kegger." 

Nick rolled his eyes, unable to excuse his jock parties, although they weren't as often as Greg conjectured. He then heard the clicking of metal followed by a boisterous fizzle.

Greg was already chugging down the contents of the can and passing it before Nick could lecture.

"I drove, so just gonna take a sip."

Shrugging, Greg sprawled out comfortably in the grassy quarry.

"Suit yourself. Damn, check out the stars tonight dude."

Nick quickly sipped the drink before imitating his companion's body movements.

"Yeah, it's nice out here."

"Kinda romantic, don't you think?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Nick attempted to change the subject.

"My parent's ranch back in Texas has skies like this. I mean, California skies are pretty awesome too."

Suddenly, Greg turned on his side.

"Yeah? I think you're pretty awesome, Nick." He confessed, taking another big swig from the can.

The older boy fought the oncoming blush that threatened to expose his feelings.

"...You're cool too, Greg." 

Both bodies sat in silence for the remaining duration of the song, staring at the stars and breathing the fresh mountain air in time with the music. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The E=MC² t-shirt line is from the episode "Slaves of Las Vegas."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if the chapter moves fast - I imagined each section like a quick movie cut.
> 
> Also, this is the final chapter FOR NOW... I'll let you all know if I think of anything else to add to this story!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING EVERYONE! 😍

**90'S THROWBACK PLAYLIST**

👽 [George Strait - You Know Me Better Than That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lps22mLRiFI)

👽 [The Cranberries - Zombies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ejga4kJUts)

👽 [Ace of Base - The Sign](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqu132vTl5Y)

👽 [Radiohead - Creep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFkzRNyygfk)

👽 [Beck - Loser](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgSPaXgAdzE)

👽 [No Doubt - Happy Now](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0NBjw-K3K4)

👽 [The Prodigy - Firestarter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmin5WkOuPw)

👽 [Moby - Porcelain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJWlBfo5Oj0)

👽 [Opus III - It's A Fine Day](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAxWoGC1rMM)

👽 [Oasis - Wonderwall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bx1Bh8ZvH84)

———

(_GIF set made by the wonderful and amazingly talented [badwolfrun](https://panchostokes.tumblr.com/post/188300943917/for-brain-twin-anon)!_ 😍)

——— 

Greg Sanders liked to do his own thing. _A lot._

In fact, he liked doing his own thing so much that he started doing it _all the time_.

He kept telling himself that solace was necessary to finish the mechanics project...but it was also a distraction from the Nick rumors.

_Word was_—Nick had asked the top of the cheerleading pyramid to homecoming.

And it didn't bother Greg. _Really._

Of course the pristine teen queen had said yes, _because why wouldn't she_? 

Catherine and Nick were immaculate; the real life versions of Barbie and Ken. Two perfect cardboard cutouts of what humans _should be_, if the species were being pitched to aliens.

As to how Nick had secured a date with the most popular girl in school—he was dependable. Everyone liked him.

Everyone, that is, except Greg. 

** _****/// ****What's in your head, in your head_ **

** _Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh ****///****_ **

The mini torch in his hand dispelled embers loosely to the beat of '_Zombies_' by The Cranberries.

Greg was sitting across his translucent blue iMac, fighting the urge to cruise Nick's files. 

The older boy had made it easy, naïvely asking Greg to install Nick's modem for him ages ago.

If only he knew how much access Greg had to the entire Stokes family network...

_ The things he could do with just one click... _

As the dreamy rock song came to an end, Greg laid his own sinister temptations to rest.

He shut the laptop out of frustration and began to search for one of his other favorite gadgets.

Locating the device, Greg congratulated himself for not turning it on out of habit.

A shaky finger hovered over the intercom...

"Shit. I shouldn't."

There was a high probability Greg would never get an answer, so he dramatically threw the radio into his messenger bag instead.

———

Everyone at school knew about 'make out bay,’ so  naturally, Greg avoided the place like a plague. There was a cooler spot he frequented; a secret cliff somewhere off the coast.

Newport Beach was a _total_ tourist trap, but beyond the main trails was an isolated cove few had dared to travel.

This type of exclusivity was Greg's bread and butter.

You had to take three buses and book it for 30 minutes to get there—but the trek was worth the journey.

Greg would go there sometimes to smoke out, or to test his wild science experiments.  But for the first time, he wished he had a companion with him. 

He kicked himself for thinking there might be something special about bringing a lover to a place like 'make out bay.'

Cringing, the blonde casually pulled out two items from his messenger bag. One was a cold beer, the other was a radio. _The infamous radio._

Flipping on the switch, he spoke into it for the last time.

"...Go for no one. Over and out."

After a moment of silence, Greg chucked the black box into the darkness.

When he finally heard it collide with the water, he lit up a cigarette in mourning.

"Rest in pieces."

His sadness was quickly enveloped by the vastness of the sea.

Ashes and blonde hair danced freely in the wind as Greg took another long drag.

Bony fingers switched on a silver Discman to lighten the mood.

_ ****/// **Life is demanding without understanding** _

_ **I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign** _

_ **No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong** _

_ **But where do you belong? ///** _

———

Greg made his way through the busy cafeteria, heading straight for the baseball team's table.

Onlookers gasped, wondering what was about to unfold.

"Fuck you want, Sanders?" One of jocks quipped, stopping dead in his tracks.

Greg didn't flinch an inch.

"Nothing from you, dickhead." His gaze shifted towards Nick who was currently torn between two friends. "Can we talk?"

The taller boy behind Nick quickly reiterated, "He don't have to talk to you."

Brown eyes shot up.

"I think he can decide for himself. Nick?"

Greg locked his heated stare on the Texan, never once breaking eye contact.

"Fuck off, he ain't got nothing to say to you." Another teammate shouted.

Nick finally got up after a few seconds, looking back at his teammates and then at Greg.

"Let's go." Nick said firmly, following Greg on a cleared path towards the exit.

———

Greg was standing outside the local corner store sporting crossed arms and a tie-dye Grateful Dead tee.

Sunshine radiated from his spikes, illuminating him from all the people passing by.

Nick knew he should have been paying attention...but he just couldn't focus.

He was hypnotized by how cute Greg looked when he was mad...the impossible way his lips narrowed while sipping on his soda. Slender arms waving wildly in the air as Greg tried to illustrate his anger.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm?"

"Exactly what I wanted to hear, Stokes. Thanks."

"Sorry Greg."

"For?"

"I don't know. But I'm sorry."

"It's fine. But let a guy know. You know? Fuck."

Nick shook his head.

"I’m not ignoring you—"

"Save it."

Greg cut the convo short by smashing the giant plastic cup into Nick's chest.

———

_ **/// You're by yourself, ** _

_ **All by yourself ** _

_ **You got no one else, ** _

_ **You're by yourself ** _

_ **All by yourself ** _

_ **All by yourself ** _

_ **All by yourself ** _

_ **All by yourself ///** _

Greg was in the middle of coding on a Friday night when he heard familiar shuffling outside his window.

He actually dreaded the incoming invasion, as much as he wanted it too.

"...Hey G."

"...Hi."

"You weren't answering your radio so..." Nick swung his other foot over the ledge. "...decided to drop by."

_ Yeah, because I threw it into the ocean. _

More silence.

"I see. How was...the rager?" Greg asked, detecting a faint smell of alcohol on Nick's breath.

"There was no rager. Just a couple buddies playin' mailbox baseball..."

"Really? Thanks for the invite."

"Didn't think you'd be into that stuff."

"Seriously?" Nick's eyes lifted at Greg's potential playfulness. "Have you ever been inside my room?"

"All right, next time I'll invite you."

"Yeah right." Greg mumbled, turning up the volume on his stereo.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're weird, man."

"You mean, _edgy_. Just as well, artists are never understood in their lifetime." Greg scoffed, placing a hand theatrically over his forehead.

"Exactly what I mean." Nick's laughter was slurred and sloppy.

"Hey. Wanna go somewhere?" Greg suddenly suggested.

"Don't think I can drive."

"We can walk there."

"...Not sure I wanna walk either." Nick repeated, biting his lip as he stared at Greg with messy desperation.

"It's a nice night, man. Plus you owe me...for _mailbox baseball_."

"Fine, have it your way."

———

"Where are we?"

Greg disappeared behind some bushes and hopped back out with something. He opened his hands, revealing a trick rock with a key inside.

"Welcome to Papa Olaf's vacation condo."

"Why we here?"

"Because it's vacant 273 days out the year."

The two boys crept into the building undetected, taking the elevator all the way up to the 15th floor.

"Fancy."

Greg smirked as he unlocked the gate with a couple of memorized digits.

"What can I say? Papa Olaf made a couple of decent investments and they paid off." 

As soon as he entered the gated patio, Greg jumped on top of a posh grey sectional. He motioned for Nick to join him.

Nick shrugged as he waded through a trench of black rocks surrounding the couch. Greg was already busy trying to spark embers into the small metal pit next to them.

“Rooftop fire pit?”

"Excessive, but it really sets the mood doesn’t it?”

Nick didn’t know how to answer that question.

”So....”

"So...what’s the real reason you’ve been avoiding me?”

”Huh?”

Greg draped his legs over Nick’s body, casually taking a joint out of his pocket.

“Figured it had to do with homecoming.”

"Oh.”

"Yeah.” Greg lit the spliff with heat from the fire pit, screaming, “Eureka!” like a true scientist.

Nick smirked, adjusting his body to account for the additional weight on his legs.

Meanwhile, the blonde activated a hidden remote in the cushions, queuing up the sophisticated sound system in his grandfather's abode.

"I don’t think I’m going to go.”

”How can you not? You’re homecoming king.”

"Homecoming’s lame, remember?”

"Only _I_ get to say that." Greg protested. "People like you don’t get to say that.” 

“_People like me_..." Nick was a bit offended. "So how come you don’t answer me any more? I’ve tried paging you...”

"Want a hit, Nick?” Greg taunted, not really wanting to answer Nick's question either.

He discretely began to observe Greg’s movements. The way his eyes closed when he inhaled, deep like he was in a trance, breathing out like someone who knew the secrets of the world.

Nick felt himself nodding before he even realized what he had agreed to. 

Grinning, Greg took a big hit off the spliff and finally closed the distance between them.

He felt burning lips brush against his, Nick's mouth swelling with smoke and confusion—_and damn_, it felt good to lose control for once. 

Greg could taste trash beer on Nick's tongue, which fought to remain civilized throughout the entire exchange.

There were a few precise clicks, followed by a familiar guitar rift permeating the air.

The fellow Norwegian had installed Papa Olaf's sound system (of course), which is why he knew all the controls. (And why it played so smoothly)

Looking up, Greg's stare briefly caught Nick's.

_ **/// When you were here before** _

_ **Couldn't look you in the eye** _

_ **You're just like an angel** _

_ **Your skin makes me cry ///** _

"Radiohead, nice." Nick whispered into the kiss, getting a smile from Greg.

Condo de Sanders was silent, except for the sounds of Radiohead reverberating through the empty halls...

_ **/// But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.** _

_ **What the hell am I doing here?** _

_ **I don't belong here. ///** _

He hated looking at Nick knowing that he was the most perfect person Greg had ever met.

Especially because Nick seemed to return the emotion, even if it was always kept hidden.

Nick's hand slipped down Greg's body, accidentally grazing his fingers.

But they went with it, delicately linking their hands together.

_ Greg was so happy in this moment he thought he could die._

"You okay?" Nick asked.

"Very." 

_ **/// I don't care if it hurts** _

_ **I want to have control ///** _

By the end of it, both had a fist full of hair and lungs that were out of breath.

Nick's arm lazily fell down the center of Greg's back, locking him into an embrace he couldn't escape.

_ **/// I want you to notice** _

_ **When I'm not around** _

_ **You're so fuckin' special** _

_ **I wish I was special ///** _

Ocean and ember is what Greg smelled like; a combination of fresh water and sandalwood.

And maybe it was the setting or the smoking, but Nick had never smelled such an exhilarating scent from Greg before. The rooftop view of L.A. probably also helped.

Inhaling deeply, Nick tried to memorize everything he could about _Gregory. Hojem. Sanders._

Now that Nick associated him with a scent, he'd never be able to let Greg go.

"_You're so fuckin' special_." Nick barely breathed, but Greg caught it and smiled.

———

Greg finally had enough courage to do something he'd been wanting to do for a _long_ time.

"Shut the fuck up.” He suddenly barked, impatiently tapping his pen on the desk.

The seat in front of him twisted around immediately as bloodshot eyes locked onto Greg.

“Excuse me?“

“Your voice is worse than a flock of seagulls.”

“Say that again." 

He was now one-on-one with the same turd that teased Greg when he was trying to talk to Nick.

“_You heard me_.“

“Take that back or I'll kick your ass." Slowly the student began to rise from his seat.

Feigning defeat, Greg approached the taller boy with a woeful hand on his face.

Once their sneakers were touching, Greg unapologetically flicked the bird.

"_Fuck you_."

It was almost graceful how quickly Todd charged towards the blonde,  miscalculating _just enough_ for Greg to stick his foot out. 

This sent Todd tumbling—_hard_—before he was able to land a devastating hit on Greg.

Greg gladly took the opportunity to revel in his victory.

Unfortunately, he didn't consider the recovery time of his nemesis.

Embarrassed he had gone down in front of the whole class, Todd got back up and mercilessly grabbed Greg by the collar. Greg knew what was coming next.

** _ BAM _ **

He felt the full impact of Todd's fist on his face as his body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

"Todd, suspended! Office _NOW_! Greg, pack your stuff too!" The teacher screamed, trying to calm down 20 riled up students.

“But—" Greg tried to chime in.

"_NOW_."

———

_**/// In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey** _

_ **Butane in my veins so I'm out to cut the junkie ///**_

Greg put on a classic Misfits shirt to go with his black distressed jeans, glaring at the unfamiliar reflection in front of him.

But it wasn't quite the aesthetic he was going for. 

The only thing this outfit screamed was **_mega __poser_**.

Digging through his mountain of clothes on the floor, Greg smiled when he spotted a tartan pattern.

Shedding his jeans like a previous skin, he slid on the pair of bright red plaid pants.

A black eye sure was hard to match—it surprisingly didn’t go with any of Greg's outfits.

_**/// Someone keeps sayin' I'm insane to complain ** _

_ **About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt ** _

_ **Don't believe everything that you read ** _

_ **You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve'** ///_

_Ripped denim vest and a spotted red tie?_ Too glam rock. The 80's weren't old enough to be considered vintage yet.

_Mesh sleeveless decorated with pins? _Greg had always been subtle yet loud...but this was just loud.

_Teal striped blazer over an orange shirt?_ The layering screamed _Green Day_ when he was going for_ Joy Division_.

_**/// Soy un perdedor ** _

_ **I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me? ///**_

Beck's '_Loser_' continued to blast through his boombox, kicking Greg out of his thoughts.

He decided it was best not to think at all.

That's when he grabbed a classic '90's smiley face tee from his bed, pairing it with a hoodie and a pair of Dr. Marten boots.

"Bitchin'."

———

Nick shook his head in distaste, folding a white polo neatly back into the drawer.

He picked up a tan sweater from his closet instead, holding it up to the light.

"Nah."

Out of choices, Nick settled on a plain white shirt with jeans and his varsity jacket.

———

"Holy shit!"

The brown haired boy almost fell backwards from the two story window when he saw a hooded figure in a Scream mask playing Greg's Playstation.

"It's me."

The figure turned to him but didn't react.

"I know...Can you even see through that?"

”Obviously.”

”Anyways, what’s up?”

"I don’t know. _You_ climbed through _my_ window, so what’s up with you?"

"...Haven't seen you around school lately."

Greg shrugged, slowly taking off the Scream mask to reveal a fresh bruise.

”Guess you’ve heard the rumors. Gather 'round and see for yourself.”

"That's a wicked battle scar."

"Thanks?"

“How’s...the rest of you?” Nick added, carefully joining Greg on the floor.

“Little sore. But I didn't get suspended like Todd so can’t complain. Just a string of detentions, no big deal.”

He had an evil gleam in his eye that admittedly scared Nick.

“Did you put ice on it or anything?”

"My mom’s a hypochondriac with a PHD. I got all the good stuff." Greg winked, mockingly shaking an orange bottle in front of Nick.

“That’s good to know.”

“What?” Greg asked, pausing his game.

“Sorry man, I just...”

”What?” Greg repeated, growing more anxious at Nick’s emotionless stare.

"...I wanna kiss you or something.”

“Then do it.”

He placed a soft kiss near Greg’s bruised eye, surprising the younger boy with his tact. 

Nick laughed, following up with a kiss on his lips as to not waste the effort.

"So why’d you do it, G?”

”Why, you mad?”

”No, just curious.”

”Because Todd sucks.”

”Yeah, screw Todd.”

Nick kissed Greg again, only this time he moved with his entire body. Greg settled into the embrace, letting Nick ride cruise control with his emotions.

He knew there were a lot of roadblocks they'd have to deal with,_ homecoming, college, parents, friends_—but right now all Greg could think about was the way Nick's lips felt on his...

How Nick smelled of cologne, a masculine mahogany and teakwood infiltrating all of Greg's senses. Strong muscles flexing around his body, reassuring Greg that things were going to be okay...even if they weren't.

Then suddenly, "Not going to homecoming.”

”What?”

”I...wanna be with you, whatever that means. Screw homecoming, I'd rather do something, _just you and me_.”

”Nick, don’t.” Greg warned, separating himself from the older boy completely.

”Don’t what? I thought this is what you wanted.”

Nick looked hurt, as if he had been betrayed for being vulnerable.

"I don’t know what I want, okay? It just makes things harder if we both want _this_.”

“_Do we_ both want..._this_? I know I do.” Nick’s finger ghosted outlines on Greg’s elbow, making him flinch from the gentle touch.

“I think you’re confused.”

"Don’t tell me how I feel, Greg.”

Now it was Greg’s turn to be hurt by Nick’s response.

“If I’m not sure, then there’s no way you can be sure.”

"For a scientist, you’re not always right you know?”

”Whatever.”

Greg rolled his eyes, barely escaping a bear hug from Nick. 

"...You’re gonna be there for me, right?”

"What?”

"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Greg...I'm not the person you think I am." He hesitated to continue. "When you do see me...for the _real_ _me_..._you're gonna be there...right_?"

"...Does this answer your damn question?” Greg snapped, joining their lips together in an aggressive kiss.

Nick nodded, ritualistically draping his letterman jacket over Greg’s shoulders.

”Oh my God, are you kidding me?” Greg screamed, promptly trying to remove Nick's jacket from his existence.

"It looks good on you.”

“Know what else looks good on me?” 

Greg threw off the jacket and climbed Nick's body like a sacred temple. Nick welcomed the new warmth, shyly wrapping his arms around Greg.

"This is...one of the things you don't know about me, actually." Nick admitted between smooches.

"Hm?"

He stopped kissing Greg to explain his point.

"Well...I'm...I've never..."

Greg's eyes widened in shock.

"Seriously? _THE_ Nick Stokes is a—"

"Why, how many people have you done it with?"

Greg's face grew red. "...I-I guess none either. So we're both in the loser's club."

"Not losers, just taking it slow." Nick assured, pressing an affectionate kiss next to Greg's ear. "I know I'm cheesy but I wanna do things the right way. Take you out on dates and all that jazz."

"I suppose." Greg said deflated. Although he had to admit he was pretty excited to go on a _real date_ with Nick Stokes.

Hanging out in his room was fun and all, but a fancy dinner in fancy outfits sounded _divine_.

"Would you prefer that I slept with a bunch of people?" Nick suddenly asked, tugging at the hem of his shirt nervously.

"Not necessarily, but it wouldn't make a difference."

"Open-minded. I love that about you."

"I'm from San Francisco, remember? Also, what else don't I know about you? Is Nick Stokes even your real name? Oh man..."

"What?"

"Your real name is...Humphrey!"

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You didn't deny it! Humphrey Eugene Stokes! Secret double agent from Uzbekistan..."

"Stop it." Nick shushed, tickling the blonde flopping fish in his embrace as best he could.

"Just so you know, I'd like you even if you were a Humphrey." Greg added, receiving another loving side eye from Nick. "But for the record I'm glad you're just Nick. _My_ Nick."

"_Your Nick_? I could get used to that."


End file.
